


Rock 'n Roll Truck

by Aloha_Fox



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Daddy Dean, Discipline, Spanking of a minor, grandpa bobby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 03:25:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17820923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloha_Fox/pseuds/Aloha_Fox
Summary: Dean leaves Ben with Bobby while he goes on a hunt and the kid finds trouble in the salvage yard.





	Rock 'n Roll Truck

Dean enjoys the feel of his baby coasting down the road. It's been a while since the black beauty has been limitless on an open back road and he's loving it. It feels like old times and the nostalgia hits him hard, almost physically knocking him into the window.

Dean shakes himself and makes a quick glance to the passenger to make sure he hasn't been caught going down heartfuckinbreak lane. Instead of his gigantor brother in the seat a smaller body- much smaller body- has filled the space.

He's already excepted Ben as his son even though the boy doesn't call him dad, but that's ok cause it's only been seven months since Sam...

Dean shakes his head again because he refuses to go down that metaphorical road; he can't drink and drive with Ben in the car.

Bobby reluctantly called him with a salt 'n burn gig. Dean didn't mind the simplicity of the hunt, he'd take anything of the supernatural variety. Supernatural was home, not the house he was so desperately trying to fit into.

His thoughts are interrupted by yet another sigh from the other side of the car. Dean grips the steering wheel a little harder before taking another quick glance.

"Ben, drop the 'tude." He says with just enough growl to let the boy know he's irked.

The thirteen year old whips his head around to glare at Dean, "But Dean, why can't I go with you?"

Dean loves Ben, he really does but he can't stand to hear the kid whine. He can remember when Sam was the same age, letting the dreadful pitch rise in his voice to complain. John Winchester didn't put up with it, didn't give any warning, just let the kid dig himself deeper. Finally, when he'd had enough John blistered Sam's ass and afterwards promised the kid that if he didn't shut his mouth he'd get a worse whipping.

Dean could admit now that Dad could be a royal ass at times- ok, maybe most of the time- could realize now that maybe Dad was too quick to reach for his belt. He didn't want to be like that with his kid. That didn't mean that Dean didn't dish out well deserved ass kickings. He had no problem taking Ben over his knee if the kid did something to earn it.

Dean learned the pros of using restrictions and groundment. Personally, he loved it and the punishment was usually enough to put Ben in check if the boy didn't push.

After the first month of living with the Braden family the novelty of him being there wore off and he decided he needed to Winchester it up some after Ben started to get mouthy. The third month brought the first spanking from Dean. It wasn't anything new since he basically raised Sam but Ben was awkward afterwards. The poor kid would blush and refuse to look Dean in the eye for a week.

Finally the man took his kid on a father-son bonding fishing trip, explained to Ben that he wasn't disappointed, he expected him to get in some trouble, shared some stories of him getting his own ass handed to him, let him know that he wouldn't hesitate to spank him again and that seemed to let Ben except Dean's role as his father.

"We've already been over this; you're never gonna hunt."

Ben shifts his body toward Dean using his kicked pup expression, "Please, Dean! You could teach me everything you know and-"

Ben quickly cut his words off as Dean abruptly pulled the car off the road, pulling the Impala to a complete stop. He gulps as Dean also shifts his body toward him resting his right arm on top of the bench seat, leaning in close and glares with his green eyes.

"You listen to me carefully, Ben 'cause this is the last time we're gonna have this conversation." He waits for the boy to nod before continuing, "You aren't gonna hunt ever. Period. I'm not letting you risk your life like my family did. It would kill your mom if something happened to you, Ben. Quit askin' me and I better not catch you with anything even resembling hunting or I'll take my belt to your ass. Do you understand?"

Ben's eyes widen at the threat of Dean using his belt. He hasn't had the misfortune to feel the strip of leather currently around Dean's waist on his ass. He wants to keep it that way too.

He sighes softly, just loud enough to let Dean know where he stands but not enough to be called on it, "Yes, sir."

"Do we need to take care of business now or are you gonna straighten up?" Dean asked with a hard edge to his voice.

Ben actually thinks about it for a minute; he doesn't ever want to give up the idea of maybe becoming a hunter someday like Dean but the promise of a whipping makes him squirm.

When the kid doesn't answer Dean shifts to get out the car.

"No, Dean!" Ben shouts, his hand shooting out to grab Dean's forearm. "I'll be good." He promises quickly.

Dean stares at him for a minute before nodding his head and cranking the Impala back to life, "Good 'cause we still have a few hours before we get to Bobby's and I don't think you want to spend it ridin' on a sore ass."

Ben silently agrees.

SPN

It's around dinner time and Bobby's waiting on the porch when they arrive. Dean smiles as he stretches seeing his surrogate father's face. Ben's running up to the older hunter with a shout of hey Pops and giving him a hug as Dean makes his way up to the porch.

"Hey, kid." Bobby's gruff voice sounds like heaven to Dean's ears.

"Hey, Bobby." He answers with a smile and allows the man to give him a quick, one armed hug.

"You stayin' for supper?"

Dean thinks he really shouldn't, he needs to get on the road but he misses the old man... "Yeah but I gotta leave right after."

Supper is Bobby's famous chili that's been slow cooking all day and Dean thinks it might just be orgasmic. It's over way too fast and he's standing at the door watching Ben shuffle his feet against the hardwood floor trying his best not to beg him not to leave. Dean throws his arms out and smiles.

"What, your old man doesn't get a hug goodbye?"

It works and Ben snorts giving him a shy smile as he attaches himself to Dean, "Maybe."

Dean wraps his arms around his kid's shoulders and gives a tight squeeze. "You be good for Pops, I'll be back in a few days." and he's out the door.

SPN

Ben's managed to keep himself busy around Bobby's: helping around the garage, going out on tow jobs, playing with Rumsfield and learning the secret ingredients to his chili.

On the day Dean's supposed to return from his hunt Ben is restless, eager to see Dean again, nervously wiggling around until Bobby tells him to find something to do.

"I'm goin' outside, Pops!" Ben shouts as he runs for the door.

Before he can get his hand connected to the screen door a rough command stops him, "Hold it, boy!"

Ben sighs but turns obediently to Bobby who's standing with his arms crossed over his chest, "Yeah, Pops?"

"I don't care if ya run around but stay 'way from the stacked cars. They ain't sturdy and could crush you flat if one of 'em falls on ya."

"'K." Ben agrees quickly and shoots out the door before any other orders can be issued.

Ben explores more of the salvage yard but he's thirteen and not as enthusiastic to be playing outside as he was when he was eight. He sighs, bored, filled with too much nervous energy. Even Rumsfield has given up hope of an adventure and lays on top of Bobby's old tow truck.

Ben knows Pops said not to go near the stacked cars but he's never been in that area before and the temptation of discovering something new is too much. He checks over his shoulder towards the house before slinking over to the cars. It's not really much to see but it's interesting as hell to see how the cars are stacked on top of each other. What really catches Ben's attention is how a small Toyota truck is stacked three cars up on it's side. How did Pops get that up there sideways?

He was so enthralled with answering his own question he didn't hear Rumsfield approach until the dog barked and dashed excitedly to him. Ben threw his hands up as the dog jumped on him, slamming him up against the stacked cars.

Ben cranes his neck as he hears metal grinding against metal and he's horrified to see the truck teetering. Maybe it was shock or perhaps his reflexes were just too slow but the truck fell before he could get him and the dog away from it.

SPN

Bobby was in his office when he heard the loud crash and the following crunch behind it. He dropped the book he was looking through and ran out the house towards the noise as fast as he could; Ben was out there.

He didn't see the kid anywhere but his eyes zeroed on the huge billow of dust where the stacked cars were. Bobby broke out in a cold sweat, his heart slamming against his ribs.

"Ben!" He yelled. He got no answer.

As he got closer to the cloud of dust he heard Rumsfield barking but barely; it sounded muffled. The dust dissipated enough for Bobby to see a pick-up truck laying on it's top. Oh God...

"Ben!"

"Pops!" The frantic, muffled reply came.

Jesus, the kid was under the truck.

SPN

Ben closed his eyes tight as the truck fell and prayed his death would be quick and painless. Maybe the truck could squash his head...

The sound of the trucking landing on the ground over him and Rumsfield' was deafening. It didn't help that the dog immediately began to bark, ringing Ben's ears. Once he realized that he was ok, not crushed to death he wished that he was. Bobby was going to kill him.

There was no way he could get out from underneath the bed of the truck and it made him panic. It was dark, hot and the small area was starting to freak him out.

"Ben!"

The kid almost cried in relief in barely hearing his grandfather's voice over Rumsfield's barking. "Pops!" he yelled back.

"Are you ok, son?"

"I'm stuck!" he yelled back.

"Are you- Rumsfield, shut it!- are you injured?"

Ben shook his head before shouting back, "No, I'm ok."

"Alright, hold tight, I'll be right back." A few minutes went by and then Ben heard a rumbling and felt the ground shake a bit. Then Pops was back. "Ben, can you hear me?"

"Yeah."

"Get you and Rumsfield against the back of the truck. I'm gonna lift it up and you get out quick, ya hear me?"

"Yes, sir!" Ben shouted and scooted back.

Five minutes later he was shuffling on his belly from under the truck and laying on his back breathing in dirt free air. He didn't get to catch his breath fully before he was being hauled up by his underarms.

"Are you alright, boy?" Pops asked anxiously while running worried hands over his body to access any injuries.

"I'm ok, Pops." Ben panted, the adrenaline wearing off.

Bobby nods and jerks his trucker's cap off to run his hand through the little hair he has left. The worry quickly melts from his face and is replaced by fury. He slams his hat back on his head and grabs Ben's arm giving him a none-to-gentle shake.

"What the hell were you thinkin', boy?"

Without waiting for an answer Bobby moves his hand to the back of Ben's shirt collar grabbing a fist full. He doesn't talk as he drags Ben to the house, through the door and straight to the kitchen.

Ben's breathing hard, getting panicked because he's never seen Bobby this pissed off before. Usually the man is pretty laid back but he's like a friggin' charging bull now plowing through the kitchen towards the counter. Ben's eyes get big as he watches Bobby snatch open the drawer next to the stove.

"No, Pops! Please! I didn't mean for the truck to fall and get messed up!"

Bobby turns to him wielding a wooden spoon with a ridiculous sad face drawn on it. The spoon made it through two other tough Winchester asses. It's a legend in the Ass Warming department. Guaranteed to leave the troublemaker truly repentant and vowing to never do anything wrong ever again.

"I don't care 'bout the damn truck ya idjit!" Bobby roars shaking Ben some more for emphasis. "You could'a got yourself killed!"

Evidently Pops too pissed to even sit and take Ben over his knee so he gestures with the spoon giving out a gruff order.

"Drop them jeans and briefs." It's short and to the point.

Ben squirms while his eyes tear up, "Not on the bare." He pleads.

He gains no sympathy from the man but he gets a firm smack to his ass, "Get 'em down, boy!"

Ben drops trou in the middle of the kitchen with his grandfather's death grip on his arm. They fall to his ankles since he's vertical and he feels kinda embarrassed that his junk is swingin' in the wind.

That all goes away as Pops rears his arm back and smacks the spoon down hard on his naked ass. Ben's hips push forward from the force of the blow, instincts to save his skin from being blistered.

The spoon is evil. When it first impacts his ass he feels a wicked sting and then the burn ripples through the muscle and settles in deep.

The strokes keep coming and Pops hasn't even started lecturing yet. Tears are already running down his face, hips wiggling back and forth, side to side to get away.

"Ow!" Ben yells cause he can't hold it in anymore, "Pops! Ow! Pops, please!"

Pops is still silently wacking away at his ass, jerking him back every time he dances too far out of swinging range. Finally, the smacking slows to less frantic strokes and Bobby speaks over Ben's wailing.

"When I say don't get near somethin' I ain't talkin' to hear my head rattle. I tell you to do something ya do it. You got me, boy?" Pops voice is hard and Ben hates the emotion behind the words.

"Yess, s-sir." Ben manages.

"Alright then, we're almost done here."

Ben's heart sinks and he cries even louder as Bobby tosses the spoon on the counter and bends him over his left hip, his arm wrapped around his back to under his belly.

Pops delivers another ten searing swats with his hand before pulling the kid up into his arms.

Ben sobs in Pops chest. It was the worst tanning he ever had, hurt like hell. He also feels bad about upsetting his grandfather so much.

"Shh, it's alright, son." Bobby soothes rubbing the boy's back.

They stand in the middle of the kitchen with Ben's pants and underwear still around his ankles for ten minutes before the kid can get himself under control. He's just pulling his jeans back up when Dean walks in the door.

Dean takes in Ben's blotchy face and swollen eyes and then his eyes land on the counter where the wooden spoon is resting; frowny face up.

Dean opens his arms and Ben runs to him, "Whatcha do, kid?"

It takes a while but Ben gets the whole story out and by the end Dean's ready to lay some of his own swats on the kid's already blistered ass. He catches Bobby's eye and nods his understanding when he shakes his head letting him know it's not necessary. Dean trusts Bobby's laid into the kid good enough so he leaves it.

Later when everybody has calmed down from the whole ordeal Bobby suddenly smirks and looks over to Ben who's been reserved.

"Ben, did I ever tell you the story 'bout when your Daddy got stuck in a drainpipe nakkid ass stuck up in the air?"

"Bobby," Dean groaned.

Ben's face lit up at the chance to hear about his dad getting into some trouble of his own as a kid so Bobby continued. They ended the night laughing about Dean's dumbass.

"Winchesters." Bobby mumbles to himself.


End file.
